


She Could Never Know

by whothefrellami



Category: Dragon Age
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-21
Updated: 2012-05-21
Packaged: 2017-11-05 18:43:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/409756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whothefrellami/pseuds/whothefrellami
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alistair's relationship with his Warden is a little less exclusive than she'd thought.</p>
            </blockquote>





	She Could Never Know

He chuckled to himself as he watched her run aimlessly after the Mabari, desperately attempting to regain the contents of her pack. It was the mage who stepped in to help in the end, temporarily freezing the hound long enough for the warden to collect her possessions. Strange. Of all the camp members, the mage was the one he’d least expected to help. He imagined she was laughing _in_ side rather than out. He saw a voice in her cold eyes as she observed the warden; a voice he heard as speaking, ‘tis a shame not all can connect with beings of natures other than their own’, most sarcastically, of course.

“What are you smirking at?” The warden enquired in irritation as she approached him.

“Nothing, my dear.” He replied as he took some of the belongings from her arms and helped her deposit them inside their tent.

“If I may interject,” he had a feeling that, even if told to hold his tongue, the elf would still go on. “It seems your dear Alistair here was making eyes at that fine, not nearly naked enough, woman over there.” He gestured to her with a seductive wave and didn’t seem at all vexed when he received a not-as-pleasant gesture in return.

“What?!” Alistair’s voice was high, which he seemed to have noticed himself. “I mean… Morrigan?!” He started at the elf in discontent.

“I think Zevran is right.” Arbitrated the bard, to whom Alistair also shot a look. “I saw you looking.”

“I was just… You…” He grunted and turned to the warden. “Don’t listen to them.” He smiled and planted a kiss on her lips as the bard and the elf erupted into a fit of laughter; the Qunari seemed less amused. Alistair pulled the warden into his chest and held her there, silently telling her she was his. He looked over her shoulder towards the mage’s corner of camp. She always kept her distance from them yet he never understood why. They were trustworthy folk… weren’t they? He liked to tell himself as much but her hostility often told him otherwise.

“Alistair.” There was a muffled voice coming from within his arms. “Alistair, I… can’t… breathe.” He released the warden from his grasp but his eyes still lingered on the mage. She always looked so… angry; so distant; so sad.

“Hey, look he’s at it again.” Teased the elf.

“Perhaps we should leave him to his swooning.” Suggested the bar. “Come, Zevran, there’s something I need you to take a look at in my tent.” The elf laughed,

“Right, like I’ve never heard that one before.” But yet he did not refuse. “Care to join us Sten?” The Qunari didn’t flinch, but simply stated,

“No.” With that, the bard took the elf by the hand and the two disappeared into the nearest tent, which was not entirely soundproof, for the record.

“You know, I think I’m gonna call it a day, too.” The warden spoke. “Are you coming?” Breaking his gaze away from the mage, he turned towards his warden.

“Yes.” She, like Leliana, took her love by the hand and led him to their tent.

 

He didn’t know what to do with his hands as her arms wrapped around him. They were so close he could feel her heart beating… her perfect heart. Why then, was it never enough? He let his hands grace slowly over her back as he pulled her closer, desperately trying to feel something. Her lips traversed his neck with heated kisses but it didn’t feel real; didn’t feel right. But she could never know. She had fallen for his bluffs. His bluffs that he constantly regretted making. His bluffs that he’d tried to convince himself weren’t bluffs at all. Those bluffs were the foundations of their relationship and he couldn’t hurt her; not that way. He couldn’t hurt her by telling her it was all a lie. He cared for her, yes, but he knew she was past that. He knew she loved him and he could do nothing but tell her the same. She moved closer into him and her kisses now painted his lips. If only she knew; he wouldn’t have to put her through this. Before he could stop her, they were parallel to the floor, his back scratching on the rough blankets beneath them. She moved so godlike but still, he felt nothing. But again, she could never know. So he lied. He soon realised she would want something in return. She always did. Their roles were reversed and he did the best he could. He was thankful when the best he could seemed to please her.

 

He carefully transferred her sleeping body from his chest to the ground and crept out of the tent. Cautious of waking anyone, he light-footedly padded across the camp, silently cursing that the tent was so far away from everyone else’s.

“I was beginning to think you were going to let me down.” She teased as he entered. He made sure the tent was fully closed before kneeling down, taking her face in his hands and kissing her passionately.

“You know I’d never do that.” He looked down into her yellow eyes and she smiled. It was nice to see her smile. However, it soon twisted into a concerned frown. “You know, you really should watch where your eyes linger. I fear they may be… suspicious.”

“And you think they’d let themselves believe it?” He laughed. “Please, we’ve got the best façade possible going. Utter. Hatred.” She giggled and allowed her long brunette hair to fall out of place and cascade in loose waves over her naked chest.

“‘Tis correct, I suppose. Although, I am troubled… about your friend.” A smile could clearly never exist on her face for more than a few seconds. “She could never find out. ‘Twould mean the end of this. I do not wish that.”

“She won’t, my love.” He lowered himself onto her and she threw her head backwards, closing her eyes as she did. “She could never know.”

If he wasn’t there when she awoke, she’d know something was wrong. He quietly made his way back to her tent and undertook the post he was _known_ to have. The post he _wanted_ to have was one he knew would never be his without a controversy uprising. But _something_ about that appealed to him. 


End file.
